Franklin not Nashville

I did not see Nicole or Keith in Nashville.  Not even the glow of her aura off in the distance.  I may have seen the bald guy who should have won American Idol that one year and now has his own very successful recording/touring empire (Dougherty?  Daugherty?  You know, that really cute guy with the bald head and the gituar).  If I did see the guy from AI, I hope he was with his birth family and not his posse, because the girl was sincerely not hot enough to be his date but whiney enough to be a younger sister and has sort of a Dakota Fanning thing going on, and the older couple looked enough like him to be real parents, and the younger guy might have been a stoner younger brother or whiney sister’s date who knows. 

They were eating dinner (as was I) in this place called Saffire (that’s how they really spell it) in this big old factory converted to art spaces and theaters and restraunts, and Saffire is one of the hot foodie places to be apparently and they lived up to every bit of the online chatter.  Fried oysters to die for.  Chicken Fried Chicken that reinvented the entire concept of Southern Comfort Food.  Everything cooked not just well, but perfectly.  Excellent staff.  Highly recommended.

I may have bought soap from Keith Urban’s stoner younger brother in some store downtown, but I suspect he was just some guy using his extraordinary good looks to get an old fart like me to fork over $17 for a bar of soap.  Seriously, I did.  I expect the soap to heal me of all ills and give me magic super powers.

We were actually in Franklin, TN rather than Nashville proper, to sleep in a boutique hotel (aloft, typical W hotel, nice, young, very comfortable and convenient) and eat good food (lots of really good food in Franklin, since all the rich and famous who actually own $20 million homes in the area are in Franklin rather than the city proper (except that Taylor Swift chick who just sold her downtown Nashville condo for a zillion dollars but really, anyone that young does not need to own seven homes).  I expected the shopping to be amazing, but it was mostly expensive girl clothes, really nice, but not for me thank you.  No oils or vinegars or salts, because we’re too rich too cook, and god help you find anything scented that doesn’t smell like your grandma’s funeral.

And, there was a bluegrass festival in the main town square all weekend, which we didn’t know about and didn’t really care about but it was a nice festive touch.  I never heard a note of music drifting around that was merely mediocre – even the little kids farting around on their dad’s banjo were pretty amazing. 

It was a fun weekend.  We might go back some weekend just for the chicken fried chicken.  Seriously. 

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